


Fais Moi L'Amour

by br500klnyn1



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluffyfest, SO FLUFFY, and smutty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-06-15 19:05:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15419586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/br500klnyn1/pseuds/br500klnyn1
Summary: Let me hear them all / The stories of your life / Right from the start / Just give me your heartThe moment she met the blonde, Franky knew her life would change. The silences they shared felt secure, like slivers of home. And that's when she knew... all Franky was or ever hoped to be was found in Bridget's arms.(Multi-chapter future fic set after 6x3)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I've been writing this for a little while but had to wait for my invite from AO3 to gift this to you guys! This is my first fic for Wentworth/Fridget and I'm so nervous but also really excited to share it with you. I hope you enjoy! xx Brooklyn

“Given all of that, I’m recommending the dropping of all charges.”

Everything after that had been a whirlwind. The feeling of the handcuffs being removed, the tightness in Franky’s chest dissolving seemingly into thin air; She couldn’t even bring herself to care about her injured shoulder. She was staring, albeit blurry-eyed at Bridget who was lightly hopping from one foot to the other in some form of happy dance. 

“It’s over, baby.” 

Absolved from the murder charges, as well as the charge of actually escaping prison (to which she paid a hefty fine), she was free to return to her home with Bridget. She felt like she was living inside a dream, one she fantasised about for weeks leading up to the jailbreak. She fought the urge to burst into tears every five minutes - Bridget calming her down with the stroke of her thumb against Franky’s, grounding her and reminding her that it was real. She was there in her girlfriend’s silver Volvo, riding home.

Home.

Walking through the threshold felt surreal. Franky closed her eyes and leaned against the wooden door frame and breathed in deep, taking in the scent that was so familiar. Fresh coffee in the kitchen, vanilla scented candles on the card table in the living room, Bridget’s perfume permeating every particle of air surrounding the two. The blonde watched silently, a small smiling playing at the corners of her mouth. 

“What is it you’re thinking of?” Her voice was low, almost a whisper. Franky’s eyes opened slowly, blinking. She turned to face Bridget and smiled.

“I’m just really…” She trailed off, hands raising from her sides to brush the fringe away from her eyes. “I can’t believe that I’m here. I’m home.” Tears threatened to spill out again as she grasped the wall to keep herself upright. Bridget took two strides and laced their fingers together, bringing the brunette’s hands up to her mouth and kissing her shaking knuckles again and again while Franky allowed herself to succumb to her sobs for the first time since leaving the hospital.

“Baby,” Bridget’s soft voice began. “Let’s get you in the shower.” She kissed Franky’s temple and lead the two of them down the corridor towards their bedroom. Realising she would be bathing in their shared bathroom, Franky murmured in appreciation, gently squeezing Bridget’s hand. Stepping into the room, the brunette eyed the bed and saw that a bottle of water was still sitting on the bedside table on her side. New tears formed, maybe because of the fact she was standing in a room she had started to believe she would never see again, or maybe it was because of the damned water bottle sitting there. Half full, waiting for her to return after work that day. That fucking day where she felt her life being taken from her, again.

“I couldn’t toss it.” Bridget spoke, bringing Franky’s eyes to her. “It was the last thing you had touched that morning.” Her voice was raw. Franky knew she hadn’t been the only one suffering - Bridget had sacrificed so much and devoted her entire being to the brunette. She made a mental note to never take her for granted again.

“I love you, Gidge.” Franky cleared her throat. “I love you so much.” She followed Bridget into the bathroom and watched as her girlfriend flitted about, gathering towels and washcloths and turning on the faucet to the right temperature. This reunion was unlike the last; Whereas before, Franky had to learn which drawer the toothpaste belonged in, where the blow dryer was. This time, she caught a glimpse of her shampoo still in its place and she felt like she’d been sucker punched in the stomach. She was happy, she was fucking elated but she really had started to give up and to be quite honest, this all still felt like an illusion. 

“Do you want me to…” Bridget trailed off, slightly stepping back from the shower and edging for the door to give Franky privacy. 

“No.” Franky’s hand flew up to grab Bridget’s wrist and pull her towards her in a tight embrace. She held her for what seemed like forever; She would hold Bridget for an eternity if she could.

“Will you take one with me?” Her voice was childlike, eyes cast down in fear that the blonde would say no. She felt Bridget nod against her chest and she breathed out a sigh of relief she didn’t realise she was holding. 

“Did you think I wouldn’t?” Bridget could read her mind like no one else could. Likely the years of experience she had in mental health. Franky just shrugged and continued looking down, eyes focused on the discoloration of her jeans where a splash of bleach must have stained years ago. 

“Honey, look at me.” Cool blue met emerald and Bridget held her gaze as she spoke. “I love you. I’m so beyond thrilled that you are home. Our home. This is what I have been waiting for, what we have been fighting for.” 

Franky nodded and sniffled back another set of tears. She was emotional and for the first time in her life, she didn’t care to hide it. Bridget’s thumbs wiped at the stray tears glistening on her cheeks and the brunette kissed her palm gently in gratitude.

They took turns undressing one another in silence, sharing kisses and gentle caresses between layers of clothing being removed and crumpled in a heap by the door. Standing under the spray of the shower, Franky held Bridget tight against her, as if fearing she would dissipate at any moment. They lathered themselves in shampoo, conditioner, and body wash, all the while staring at each other, conveying silent messages of adoration and understanding. Facing away from her girlfriend, Franky closed her eyes and let the warm water wash the pain and dirt of Wentworth down the drain. She could hear Bridget begin humming quietly to the radio that was playing from the bedroom and she smirked to herself upon realizing this was likely the most innocent shower she had taken with anyone...ever. 

After both women were rinsed, they stood meshed together under the water and held each other; Franky trailed her hands up and down Bridget’s back and sides, memorizing every curve and relishing in the feel of her skin pressed against her own. Bridget’s fingers were busy running through the wet locks of the taller woman while she peppered kisses across the heated flesh of Franky’s collar bone. When the water started to run cold, Franky used one hand to turn the faucet off, her other hand still glued to Bridget’s lower back. 

Fluffy towels wrapped around them, they exited the bathroom and stood in the bedroom, staring at the king sized bed in contentment. It had been a long day...start to finish and Franky wasn’t the only one feeling incredulous about their current situation. But it was real, they were standing in their bedroom together for the first time in months and that alone would be enough to whisk both into a blissful night of sleep. 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Franky stirred at the sound of birds chirping outside her window. Rubbing her hands across her face and reaching her arm across the bed towards the sleeping beauty lying beside her, she let the memory of their first night together flash in her mind.

...

“You’ve got a comfy bed, eh Gidge?” Franky hopped onto the plush furniture and smiled deviously. “It’s huge, a lot of room for activities.” She winked at the blonde.

“I like to stretch out when I sleep,” came Bridget’s reply. “I enjoy having a lot of space.” She neared the edge of the bed cautiously, knowing her resolve was shrinking exponentially fast. She had vowed to herself she would take this...whatever it was, slow. Franky needed time to adjust and Bridget, well, she needed to know Franky really wanted this. 

But the way the brunette was looking at her right now… She felt like she was under a microscope, or on center stage. Being examined for pleasure, what would be her next move? Show time, she thought.

The closer she got to Franky, the more she felt her heart winning the battle against her mind. Or maybe it was her vagina. She snorted internally. That bitch had a mind of her own. Franky wrapped her arms around Bridget as the blonde moved to stand in between her legs. Guiding her mouth to Bridget’s slender neck, she placed gentle open mouthed kisses up and down in the space between her collarbone and ear lobe. The blonde tilted her head for better access when Franky’s hand grabbed a fist full of the golden tresses and tugged slightly, making the older woman whimper and a flood of heat fill her lower belly. 

“You’re so beautiful.” It was barely above a whisper but Bridget heard it. She pulled back to stare into the green eyes she had become so accustomed to seeing nearly every day. 

“Do you want this?” She asked. “All of this? A life with me?” She was treading into deep waters and she did not have a life jacket handy on the off chance that Franky would pull away and run. She would drown and what scared her most was that she didn’t care.

Franky felt her own heart racing, pounding against the confines of her chest cavity, threatening to burst and leave the brunette a mess in Bridget’s hands. She had no doubt about the woman, she never did. From the moment the two met, Franky felt herself changing. 

“No bullshit Gidge. I want to be with you. I want to make dinner for you every night, I want to hold ya on the couch while we watch shitty reality television.” They both chuckled and Bridget kissed her girlfriend on the lips gently.

“I have never wanted something more than I do in this moment. You are it for me. I met you and suddenly, the only thing that mattered to me was being a better person, to get the fuck out of that shithouse so I could kiss you for real instead of just imagining it every fuckin’ day.” Franky used both hands to hold the blonde’s face steady so she could stare into her eyes to convey her truth. 

“I love you.” Bridget knew that. She could feel it in their sessions, she could feel it in her soul. 

“I love you, too.” Her voice was raspy, filled with emotion. Franky smiled and kissed her fully on the lips, running her hands down Bridget’s back to grab her jean clad behind. Squeezing playfully, she smiled against the blonde’s mouth and pulled back in time to see Bridget’s light blue eyes become darker as lust entered her features. Franky never broke her gaze as she tugged gently at the older woman’s blouse, silently asking permission to remove the offending garment.

Bridget’s arms rose on their own accord to allow the white material to be removed from her heated skin. Franky stared, mesmerized by the creamy swells of Bridget’s heaving chest and taut, tone muscles that were directly below. She placed kisses again down her neck and across her lace covered chest before unclasping Bridget’s bra and sliding it down her shoulders.

“I want you.” Franky licked her lips before continuing her assault of kisses on her lover’s pale skin. 

“Then take me.” 

In a matter of moments, Franky had flipped Bridget around onto the bed and stripped the blonde of her jeans so that she was completely nude save for a lacy white thong. Franky sat back and groaned at the sight before her.  
“Jesus fuck, I knew you were a thong gal.” Bridget giggled, a blush beginning to creep across her neck and cheeks. 

“You’re extremely overdressed, darling.” Franky smirked and shimmied out of her pants.

“Better?” Bridget nodded in finality, a gasp escaping her pouted lips when Franky began tracing patterns with her finger tips up milky thighs, lips trailing behind in their place. The sounds that Bridget was making were enough to make Franky come undone without even being touched but the brunette had plans for the two of them to last until the sun came up and she was just getting started.

“I have thought about this,” Franky kissed her way across the toned muscles of the blonde’s stomach, tongue darting out to taste the sweet saltiness that was gathering on Bridget’s skin. “So many times.” Bridget whimpered when the brunette swirled her tongue around a hardened nipple, suckling before releasing the sensitive skin with a pop. 

“Is it how you’ve imagined?” Bridget’s voice was thick with desire, hands tangling in Franky’s hair as her mouth continued its attack on her chest, switching between the two breasts until her eyes rose to meet the older woman’s. 

“You’re better than I could ever fuckin’ dream.” Franky’s fingers teased the blonde over the silk covering her slick folds. Involuntarily, Bridget’s legs found themselves wrapping around the brunette’s waist and pulling her tighter against her core.

“Franky…” Bridget’s head was thrown back and her girlfriend’s breath was hot against her neck as she removed the last piece of fabric separating them. Franky kissed her way down the blonde’s body before settling at the bottom of the bed, head between her thighs, the fragrance of Bridget invading her senses. 

Bridget’s hips jerked forward wantonly at the feeling of Franky’s tongue against her throbbing centre, lips whispering hymns against her clit. She whimpered and shook underneath the brunette’s touch, fingers grasping at the sheets beneath her. 

“Oh fuck, right there, don’t stop.” 

...

Franky felt Bridget stirring beside her and her head jerked back to the comfortable looking blonde. She rolled over until she was pressed against the other woman, arms wrapped around her, mouth pressing kisses against her face. Her smile mirrored that of Bridget’s lazy one.

“Good morning,” she rasped into the blonde locks, head leaning to rest against her hand, elbow propped up to give her better view of her girlfriend’s face.

Bridget mumbled in response, attempting to roll over and bury herself deeper into Franky’s warm body, head nuzzling against her bare chest.

“Nuh,” Franky chuckled. “Come on, I’m hungry. I want to make breakfast.” She kissed the top of Bridget’s head. “With you,” she added.

After dragging the blonde down the beige corridor towards the kitchen, Franky was shoulder deep in the fridge in search of...well, anything that would constitute as breakfast items. She found two limes, a pack of Red Vines, and a suspicious container of something Bridget had concocted. The brunette wasted no time in chucking the tupperware into the garbage, all the while ignoring the look of protest plastered across her girlfriend’s face.

“I don’t even want to know what that was.” Franky grimaced. “I’ll buy new containers. I want to cook, we need groceries.” 

And that was how the two found themselves bundled up in layers, because while it wasn’t exactly winter yet, the weather for May was exceptionally cold. They held hands in the car on the way to the Cole’s supermarket downtown, this time Franky behind the wheel. Pulling into the car park, the couple walked hand in hand into the store, away from the blistering cold that appeared to have engulfed Melbourne overnight. 

Rubbing her arms to find some warmth, Bridget idly walked through the aisles of the produce, watching a very intense Franky decide on just the right bunches of cilantro, dill, and thyme. She marveled at the way the brunette appreciated food. Bridget had never been much of a grocery shopper; Not nearly in the way Franky was. The blonde was more than satisfied to purchase microwave meals and granola bars. That’s where Franky stepped in.

She pushed the trolley deeper into the store, grabbing tomatoes and potatoes, flour, sugar, mince, and a bag of jasmine rice. Bridget eyed the Poptarts teasing her, Franky noticing at the last minute. She wedged her way in between the blonde and the sugary boxes on the shelf.

“Nuh, no way.” Bridget pouted briefly before Franky kissed her lips twice. She thought she had the one over as she moved closer to the sweet treats, when the brunette grabbed both of her hands and bear hugged her in the middle of the aisle, causing her to burst into a fit of giggles. She knew they likely looked ridiculous, two grown women in winter coats all but cuddling in the middle of the grocery, instead of somewhere more private or intimate. But she didn’t care. 

She was home wherever Franky was.

Once all was loaded into the back of the car, they drove back to the house in a delicious silence, comfort and warmth woven in each breath they took. Franky prepared breakfast in between kissing Bridget over the kitchen island. She chopped mushrooms and peppers, whisked them with eggs and plated beautiful omelettes for each of them, ceremoniously blowing out an invisible flame on the spatula when she saw Bridget’s eyes roll back at the first taste.

“I missed you just being here the most, but your cooking came in a close second.” Franky’s eyes twinkled at the compliment. She knew she was a good cook, great even, and she loved to lose herself in the magic that was a fully stocked refrigerator and large, spacious kitchen. She was sure she purchased one of everything at Cole’s today, but it didn’t matter. Nothing would go to waste, not now that she was home. 

“Gidge,” she took a sip of coffee and hummed joyfully. She had missed the French press. “I want to do nothing today.” 

Bridget’s smile was full, her nose wrinkling as she nodded. “Well, right then.” Reaching her hand across the table, she patted her own against the brunette’s and squeezed softly. 

“Let’s do nothing.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A second chapter in two days is a bit unrealistic for me, but I've got a few done already and couldn't wait to share more! Thank you for all the feedback so far - I really hope you guys continue to enjoy! PS - I do live in the US so I have not seen S6 aside from Fridget clips on Youtube. That being said, it's likely not following any timeline for the actual show after the beginning of the first chapter. Hope you guys enjoy this ride. ;)

“Oi, fuckin’ hell is that?” Franky covered her eyes dramatically with both hands as Bridget chuckled, pulling the younger woman tighter against her. They were watching a horror film, specifically one Franky had chosen from the large collection on the shelves. An empty bottle of wine and the remnants of sliced cheeses and apples laid across the coffee table before them, the two women choosing to have an hors d’oeuvres night as opposed to cooking a large meal. 

Franky had done most of the work, crafting the mushroom and goat cheese arancini and garlic butter prawns while allowing Bridget to slice the fruit and havarti, as long as she promised not to hurt herself. That comment had made the blonde snicker with laughter, and she realized how badly she had missed the routine of it all. It had been two weeks of settling back into the day to day; Franky had gone back to work at Legal Relief and Bridget was back at Wentworth...again, after some begging and pleading on Vera’s end. It’s true what they say about the corrections facility...once you’re in, you never leave.

“Babe, you’re missing the ending.” Bridget’s lips ghosted over the brunette’s temple. When Franky shrugged her shoulders and pressed further into the blonde, Bridget rolled her eyes playfully and exhaled a breath.

“You picked this one might I remind you.”

“I forgot how fucked it is,” came the muffled reply, Franky refusing to come out from under the plush grey throw the two of them were sharing. Bridget reached around aimlessly, looking for the remote, clicking the power button and the room was sent into an eerie silence. 

“Well, now we will never know if she got her complete revenge or not.” Bridget clicked her tongue twice and hummed, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips watching a dishevelled Franky peer out from the edge of the blanket.

“Gidge, it’s called I Spit On Your Grave. I think the title gives it away.” She playfully tapped her foot against Bridget’s thigh. “Plus, we’ve seen it before. Too much gore for my taste.” 

They began clearing the room, Bridget blowing out the candle on her side of the couch, Franky grabbing the wine bottle and cutting board. After the kitchen and living room were officially closed for the evening, as Franky had put it, the two exhausted women trudged down the hallway to their bedroom. It had been a long week of work for both of them; Bridget getting back into the swing of corrections and Franky filling in the gaps at the small law firm that never gave up on her.

“I’m so happy it’s Friday,” she nuzzled into the nape of Bridget’s neck, pressing gentle kisses on the warm skin. “A whole weekend with my babe.”

“Are you still up for coming to Wentworth with me tomorrow?” The blonde turned in Franky’s arms, watching her face curiously. The brunette’s features screamed with apprehensiveness, but she nodded immediately.

“I miss the girls.” 

And it was true, she did miss them. She was glad to know Ferguson had been caught just shortly after she herself was, and even more elated hearing the news that the Freak wouldn’t be rejoining the crew to recall her adventure of escaping the prison and undermining Vera. She knew it was a safer place now, even for a prison. As for Joan Ferguson, she was transferred rather quickly to a facility with much higher security and a team skilled to handle her psychopathic ways. 

That was one of the reasons Bridget had agreed to come back in the first place, the knowledge she wouldn’t be dealing with the lunatic who made her life a living hell in a short span of time. And if she was being honest, she had missed the girls left behind as well. Boomer, Liz, and even Allie… She loved helping people, she was good at it, and walking back into the gates of Wentworth felt like coming home after a long vacation. 

Franky wasn’t sure how long she’d been lying there staring at the ceiling. She couldn’t turn her mind off, thoughts swirling like the eye of a hurricane, calm but destructive. How was this her life? She was laying next to a beautiful woman who had quite literally given every part of herself to her without expecting anything in return...right from the beginning, she never asked Franky to be anything other than herself. Franky had spent her adolescence thinking that love meant giving away parts of yourself to satisfy others wants and needs, sacrificing her warm heart for the icy pain of regret; the first half of her adult life was used to harden herself, refusing to believe love even existed. What was love anyway? Cigarette burns and broken beer bottles pressed into her flesh? But no, love was not the feeling of anguish and rippled skin where scars had formed. Love was the rise and fall of Bridget’s chest, the blonde’s laugh and the way her face scrunched up in a brilliant smile that made Franky’s heart pound and fingers twitch, the smile that made her run her fingers through golden locks because she couldn’t bear to not touch her for one more second. But still, how did she get to this moment? How did she go from being that hurt little girl to the angry woman in prison to this?

“Gidge?” Franky’s voice pierced the night, a harsh whisper in the dark.

“Mm,” Bridget muttered from her side of the bed, arms finding the brunette and pulling her close. 

“Do you reckon I’m different?” Franky willed the tears gathering in her eyes to stay at bay. She swallowed and let out a shaky breath when Bridget pressed a kiss against her cheek.

“What do you mean, darling?” The blonde sat up and clicked the lamp on, mild concern clouding her face as she turned to her girlfriend.

“I mean, am I still me?” Franky sniffled and pushed her hair off her face roughly. “After all the shit we’ve been through…” She trailed off and looked up at Bridget.

“Oh honey,” Bridget smiled softly. “You’ll always be you. Every part of you is just wonderful, it makes you ‘you’.” 

Franky huffed a sarcastic laugh. “Wonderful,” She repeated the word, challenging the blonde with a quipped brow and sideways glance.

“Yes, wonderful. You are the best person I have ever known.” Bridget’s tone was less playful, serious notes sending a chill down the brunette’s spine. “You don’t even realize it, do you?” 

Franky’s jaw tightened and she didn’t respond, though the action spoke a thousand words.

“I’ll just keep showing you then.” Bridget dipped her head down for a quick kiss. “One day, you’ll see yourself the way I do.”

I'm going to help you stop self-sabotaging, Franky.

The echo of a memory from long ago hung between the two women and Franky felt a lightness in her chest, a feeling she hadn’t yet become familiar with. She buried her face into Bridget’s chest as the older woman turned the lamp off. The sound of Bridget’s heartbeat lulled Franky to sleep, images of teal trackies flashing behind her eyelids and the feel of blonde hair beneath her fingertips.

Franky woke the next morning to the sound of Bridget singing in the shower. A wide smile stretched across her face as she rolled out of bed and made her way into the bathroom, tiptoeing across the tiled floor. Bridget belted out a note that was so far out of tune, a loud cackle bubbled from Franky’s lips before she could stop it. Bridget whipped the curtain back and popped her head out with an incredulous look plastered across her face.

“Well, don’t just stand there.” She winked at the brunette who quickly disrobed her shorts and tank top, climbing in behind Bridget who was giggling at the feeling of Franky’s lips peppering kisses across her freckled shoulders. 

“I was thinking,” - “Mmm,” Franky murmured in interjection. Her lips were cascading down Bridget’s slender neck, arms wrapping around her toned stomach. 

“How about a cuppa and then head out?” Bridget extracted herself from Franky’s arms, despite the pout of protest her girlfriend delivered. 

“Ba-abe,” the blonde smiled and dragged the word out. She wrapped a towel around herself and ran her toothbrush under the tap. Franky whined and rolled her eyes, continuing her shower. 

“I’ll make toast,” Bridget called over her shoulder, heading back into the bedroom to get dressed. 

They were in the car after a quick breakfast and a few thousand kisses. A nervous energy filled the brunette, foot tapping so fast against the floorboard of the car Bridget placed her free hand on Franky’s knee and gave her a sideways look. 

“Calm.” The word left the blonde’s lips and Franky stilled. She took a breath and gave Bridget a tight lipped smile. She was anxious, mainly because she was about to be walking back into a building that had stolen so much from her. Freedom, compassion, integrity. She barely made it out of there, not once but twice, and some days she didn’t even recognise her reflection. But it was also the place that had given her so much. Friendships, courage, Bridget… She smiled softly out the window, watching the streets of Melbourne pass. 

Coming up on an overpass with a pull off, Franky turned to the blonde. “Gidge, can we stop?” Her voice was even, a gentle pleading in her eyes. Bridget raised an eyebrow but slowed the car, pulling into the space and turning the ignition off. She looked at Franky with a tilted head. 

Franky got out of the vehicle and stood watching the water rush beneath the bridge under her. Bridget came up behind her quietly, not trying to disturb the moment her girlfriend was having. Franky reached behind her when she felt the blonde nearing closer, finding her hand and lacing their fingers together. She pulled Bridget against her back, folding the older woman’s arms around her midsection, leaning against her frame. It wasn’t a position she took up often - she liked being the one who held, the one in control. But Bridget’s arms always felt like safety and security, something she couldn’t remember ever feeling in her life before now. 

“You okay?” Bridget breathed a whisper into the air. Franky nodded wordlessly, tightening her grip as if to keep the blonde there forever. After a few minutes of the two women watching the scenery below them, Franky turned in Bridget’s arms and gave her a squeeze and a small smile.

“Ready,” she said. It wasn’t a question, it was an admission. Bridget smiled reassuringly, both of them getting into the car and continuing their way to Wentworth. 

Franky swallowed the lump in her throat, her heart beating wildly and stomach churning slightly as she walked towards the entrance. She saw Vera through the small window in the door, eyes catching and the smaller brunette did a double take, dismissing the officer she was speaking with to walk towards her and Bridget, eyes never leaving Franky’s. 

“Bridget,” Vera smiled and leaned in to kiss the blonde’s cheek. Bridget grinned warmly and stepped to the side to allow the smaller brunette to greet Franky. 

“Gov’ner,” Franky smirked, instincts kicking in. Keep your wall up. Vera bristled slightly but shook the former inmates hand firmly. Franky tensed at the sensation, but the feel of Bridget’s hand on the small of her back was instantly comforting and she relaxed into it.

“It’s nice to see you again, Franky.” Vera’s tone was clipped but genuine. Franky nodded in agreement and followed both women to the visitor’s centre. As she wandered down the hallway, she noticed several prisoners staring, mouths agape and hushed voices speaking low. It was only a matter of time before the entire prison knew she was there. The news about her capture and release had been kept very quiet - Vera had mandated the blocking of television time during the press release sharing the truth about Franky, she knew from Bridget. Need to know basis, Franky concluded. 

But this time was different, she wasn’t in handcuffs and she wasn’t there to be incarcerated again. She felt good, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. 

“Franky,” Bridget’s voice brought her out of her reverie. She turned to the blonde with a wide eyed expression. 

“Vera asked if it was just Sue you wanted to see today?” 

“Uh, yeah.” Franky coughed. “Boomer, yeah.” She felt the anxiety again, the thought of seeing her old friend. She supposed it was truly the thought of seeing anyone, especially the other prisoners but it was Saturday, not a visitor day, and they’d have the room to themselves.

“Right.” Vera turned on her heel and left the room. Bridget sat next to Franky and held her hand on top of the table, rubbing soft circles to jittery flesh. 

The guilt Franky felt was immeasurable - using Boomer’s project just to leave her behind. She knew at the time how fucking shitty it was but she was desperate. She was dying in Wentworth. She didn’t feel she had a choice, hopefully her friend would understand.

“Yeah, but I don’t have any visitors.” She heard Boomer’s voice from down the hall. Taking a deep breath, Franky braced herself...for what exactly, she wasn’t sure. Would Boomer be happy to see her? Would she forgive her? Or would she just fucking maul her in the visitor’s centre like she deserved? There was no more time to ponder - the woman in question was walking through the door. 

“Holy fuck.” Her words echoed through the empty room, reverberating off the walls and sending a shock through Franky’s heart. And then there were tears. Panic ran like ice through her veins as she stood there watching Boomer cry, not the first time to be the cause of the taller womans tears. And then she was in her arms, enveloped in a hug so tight, she felt her broken pieces being put back together again.

“I thought you were dead.” Boomer’s voice was frantic, wails still escaping from her throat. 

“You can’t get rid of me that easy, Booms.” Franky attempted a joke through her own tears. Boomer smiled but began sobbing just as fast again. The pair sat at the table for an hour and talked about everything; Franky’s escape, her time on the run. She told Boomer about the rail car, the hobo trying to steal her shit, and about how Bridget saved her...in every way a person could be saved.

“So,” Boomer lowered her voice, eyeing Vera and Bridget standing to the side, having their own conversation. Franky followed her gaze and chuckled.

“So,” she repeated, raising her eyebrows at the raven haired woman. 

“How long?” Boomer had a shit-eating grin on her face. Franky rolled her eyes as a deep blush formed across her face. 

“Officially or unofficially?” She winked at Boomer and they burst into giggles like school children. She gave Boomer a serious look and continued.

“I love her.” She let the statement roll off her tongue; It was different than telling Kim, she wasn’t using it as an apology this time. It was just the truth. She popped a Skittle into her mouth and continued. 

“Nothing happened before I got parole.” Boomer stared, wide-eyed and listening. “But she was the one to pick me up when I got released.” She hummed thoughtfully before speaking again. 

“She made me a better person, someone who had her shit together. And when I got dragged back in here, I felt myself going fuckin’ crazy, Booms. I was angry at everyone all the time. I was mean, and I’m sorry I used the Green Wall to leave ya.” 

Boomer looked down at the table, eyes boring into yellow hardtop. Franky waited, hoping her words came off as genuine as she had hoped. 

“Yeah, I was really fucked at first.” Boomer looked at her, brown eyes never leaving Franky’s green ones. “But I forgave you already, when news came you been shot.” She gestured to Franky’s shoulder and the smaller woman felt a phantom pain sear through her arm and neck. She nodded and rubbed the bullet wound lightly, letting Boomer’s words sink in.

“I’m really glad you’re okay.” Boomer placed her hand over Franky’s, squeezing gently before sitting back in her chair and smiling.

“Now, tell me more about Miss Fancy Pants.” Franky rolled her eyes and chuckled, her head lolling back against the chair. She was content… and for the first time in a long time, she felt whole.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good day lovely readers! I hope this chapter finds you well- I typed it on my phone as my laptop recently took a giant dump and I am currently without access. Any and all mistakes are defs mine and I apologize in advance!
> 
> ALSO: I don’t really know the line between mature rating and explicit- but this chapter is NSFW ;)
> 
> Also because I now know the woman who sleeps next to me every night actively is reading this fic - hi baby :) I love you!

Soft jazz music was flowing through the Thai restaurant Bridget loved so much, the two women sipping mojitos and enjoying each other over dinner. Franky couldn’t help but always stare at the blonde, no matter what she was doing. Her facial expressions and hand movements, wildly poetic gestures that made the brunette’s heart soar. She smirked to herself before looking down at her meal in amusement.

“What?” Bridget’s knowing smile made Franky smile as well.

Damn it, Gidge. 

“Just thinking about how beautiful you are.” Franky’s voice was soft. She picked up Bridget’s hand in her own and kissed it gently. The blonde blushed profusely, taking another sip of her cocktail. 

After dinner, the two of them walked hand in hand down the well lit up promenade. Bridget was tipsy, which Franky found most amusing. 

“Drinks were a bit strong, eh?” Franky bit her lip to keep from laughing at the blonde’s swaying figure strutting in front of her.

“I just feel free!” Bridget’s retort was paired with a delightful giggle that sounded like chimes to Franky’s ears. 

“I want to be with you forever.” Bridget’s speech was slurred as she pressed herself against the taller woman, hands cradling Franky’s face. 

“Me, too.” 

Their walk home was lit up by the big, full moon and a million shining stars in the sky. It was about 9 pm when they reached the front door, Bridget’s buzz long gone - as well as her heels. Franky placed the footwear by the door for the blonde in the morning before continuing in the kitchen to set out two travel mugs on the counter. She quickly packed lunches for the two of them and ran her fingers through her hair as she padded back towards the bedroom. 

“Gidge?” No answer. 

Likely asleep already, little angel. As she continued down the hallway, she came across Bridget’s stockings crumpled on the floor. Raising an eyebrow, she picked up the orphaned garment and noticed a few feet away were Bridget’s pencil skirt and blouse in a similar state. Gathering the clothing, she pushed the bedroom door open expecting to see the blonde fast asleep under the comforter. 

That was not so.

“Hi there,” Bridget’s voice was low, her head tilted to the side in a delicious way that made Franky’s jaw drop slightly and tongue dart out to wet her lips. Instead of the blonde being wrapped up in pajamas and blankets, she was propped up on her elbows, looking at Franky through hooded eyelids, a sultry smirk painted on her mouth.

And she was naked. Franky inhaled sharply as she watched Bridget’s fingers trail across her smooth skin, tugging on her hardened nipples and letting a soft moan out through parted lips. She felt a familiar ache settling between her thighs as she leaned against the doorframe and crossed her arms over her chest. She felt her brain short-circuiting at the sight of the blondes hands squeezing perfect breasts, eyes locking with Franky’s in a contest of lust. 

“Bridget,” Franky’s voice surprised her - it was an octave lower than normal, huskier, filled with desire. Bridget’s thin fingers trailed down the expanse of the fair skin of her thighs, dancing patterns towards her core. Sliding her middle finger through silky folds, Bridget broke gaze with Franky only briefly as her eyes fluttered closed at the sensation. Using the pads of her fingers, she rubbed tight circles against her clit, sighing in satisfaction. 

Franky was frozen in place, face flushed and fingers twitching, wanting to be the digits pressed against Bridget’s center. The sound of the blonde’s breathy moans filled the room as Franky all but ran to the bed, tripping out of her jeans and underwear and tearing her shirt over her head. She grasped Bridget’s wrists and held them above her head as her own body pressed hard against her girlfriend’s. Lips descending for a kiss, Bridget stealthily rolled them over, effectively topping the breathless brunette in mere seconds. She grinned deviously at Franky before grinding her hips down, attempting to create the friction they both were yearning for.

“Fuck.” The word left Franky’s mouth as her hands guided Bridget’s rocking hips. Bridget had always been a very sensual, very sexual lover. She was also very dominant in bed, a trait the brunette was most surprised by, but one that also made her very, very aroused. 

Bridget was writhing above her, head thrown back, breasts bouncing slightly when Franky slid her hand down in between their heated bodies, fingers delving deep inside Bridget. The blonde cried out in pleasure and began grinding against her lover’s fingers. Franky curled her two digits against the blonde’s walls and swiped the pad of her thumb against her swollen clit twice before a guttural moan left Bridget’s perfect mouth, body going rigid and movements stopping before she fell against Franky in a heap of shallow breathing and wild heartbeat. 

“Ah, ya know,” Franky swallowed before clearing her throat. “I really appreciate surprise sexy times.” She clicked her tongue and smirked playfully.

Bridget giggled and pressed open mouthed kisses across the tops of Franky’s bra clad chest. Her hand slipped down, fingers dipping into the brunette’s slick heat, causing Franky to whine with pleasure.

Franky removed her bra quickly, flinging it over Bridget’s shoulder before tangling her fingers in the blonde’s locks. Bridget peered up at Franky from between the taller woman’s thighs, her ice blue eyes framed by thick lashes, mouth in a swollen pout. 

“If I didn’t know I was already in love with you,” Franky chuckled before letting out a moan.

Bridget’s mouth worked at a steady pace, tongue lapping at the wetness she had found earlier. She suckled at the brunette’s throbbing clit and used her hands to hold Franky’s hips still as her girlfriend began thrashing above her. She hummed in satisfaction, causing a vibrating feeling against the sensitive bundle of nerves between her pink lips.

Mouth still busy, the blonde teased Franky’s entrance with her middle and ring fingers, coating them in the brunette’s arousal before pushing in. Bridget’s lover cursed loudly, grunting and tugging at the blonde head of hair between her legs. Bridget curled her fingers hard against Franky’s inner wall, mouth still on her clit until the brunette came hard, back arching and the echo of Bridget’s name lingering in the warm air of their bedroom. 

Franky gulped at the air filling her lungs, her orgasm still causing her legs to twitch. Bridget smiled with pride as she pulled the duvet over their naked bodies. Laying her head back on her pillow, Franky gathered the small blonde in her arms and pressed her body tightly against her back.

“Darling, I would have never pegged you as a fan of spooning.” Bridget traced patterns on the arm Franky had wrapped around her. The brunette scoffed and tightened her cuddle.

“Well, I wasn’t until I had someone I wanted to hold.”

“Fuck, I just wanna hold ya.” The memory hung in the air. 

“I’ll always want you to hold me.” Bridget whispered. It was the last sound they both heard before falling into a peaceful slumber.

———————

“Good morning Franky!” Imogen’s voice was bold and welcoming, a lovely sound to Franky’s ears as she walked through the door to Legal Aid the next morning. She waved her free hand and scrunched her face in a bright smile at the older woman in greeting before settling in at her desk. She sipped at her coffee while looking around the bustling room at her colleagues, all busy typing away, taking phone calls, chatting about cases. 

Franky browsed through her emails from the weekend, choosing to stay unplugged unless absolutely necessary. She enjoyed the boundary line she’d created between work and home life. Fuck, she knew she sounded like a self help book, but it was true. Structure leads to success. She rolled her eyes at herself before pulling up an interesting case file. She chewed her lip thoughtfully while she read the print before her. 

August Sellers, 17 year old charged with Criminal Sale of illegal substances: Schedule I Heroin, MDMA, and traces of various Schedule III substances found on person upon arrest. 

Franky frowned and furrowed her brow. There was no way in fuck she thought a 17 year old could be responsible for this. She took a deep breath and sighed, a light sweat already forming on her upper lip. This was her job; Though she would not be able to represent the kid, she knew she could help. Or at least she hoped. 

Just then, an unfamiliar redhead whisked in front of her desk. Franky did a double take and raised a brow at the stranger who was currently talking animatedly with Imogen, sharing smiles and laughter. She had never seen the woman before today, she wondered silently if she was new. The two women turned and began walking toward the paralegal, so Franky continued back to the case in front of her, jotting notes down on the spiral notebook to her right.

“Franky,” her boss had a cheeky grin on her face. “I’d like to introduce you to Julia Freeland.” The mystery woman smiled and stuck her hand out. Franky stood politely and shook it accordingly.

“Pleasure.” She quipped. Imogen continued energetically.

“Julia began here while…” she trailed off, allowing Franky to decide where to take the conversation.

“Oh, Ms. Fessler, you can say it.” She winked. “While I was incarcerated. Again.” She noticed a flash of intrigue cross Julia’s features. Great, she thought. Someone who’ll wanna know all about women’s prison and have a million questions.

“Right.” Imogen nodded nervously, concern starting to show through a wide eyed set expression. 

“Well, I’m lucky if anything that I still have my job. Escaping prison, being shot by the cops, and then being exonerated of all charges really can make your head spin, but we do what we have to do.” Julia was looking more and more interested by the second. Franky almost snorted in laughter at the look on Imogen’s face. 

“Is she serious?” The redhead exclaimed in a hushed tone. “Are you serious?”

“Serious as a heart attack.” Franky’s playful smirk was gone. She’d had her fun with the new girl, she just wanted to get to work. Julia swallowed and excused herself, something about the copier not working and rushed off.

“Franky,” the aboriginal woman began in a disciplinary tone. “You just freaked her out.”

“Seemed fine to me,” the brunette muttered casually, typing away at her keyboard in response to the email about the 17 year old offender.

“She’s young, just an intern doing small tasks around the office for us. Just be careful. Not everyone can handle your level of—.”

“Smartassery?” Franky stuck her tongue out between her teeth and smiled when Imogen pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. The relationship Franky had made with her boss was one she truly valued and respected. She had never once given up on the former inmate. She owed her a lot for that.

“I was going to say cheekiness.” Imogen retorted with a tilted head. Franky chuckled gleefully, promising to tone down her crassness and her boss walked away satisfied. Julia, on the other hand was watching the exchange from across the room. Franky felt her eyes and wiggled her hand in a wave at the younger woman before laughing at the panicked way she blushed and hurried along to refill the toner in the printer.

It wasn’t that Franky got amusement out of telling people her story. Fuck, that wasn’t even her whole story. Not even a sliver of it, truthfully. But Julia seemed so innocent, so naive that Franky’s old instincts had kicked in and she had her fun with making her squirm. Time to start acting like an adult, Francesca. 

“Look, I just wanted to really say a proper hello.” She began, speaking kindly to the woman who still looked slightly terrified to be near her. They were in the break room, Franky grabbing her lunch a few hours later, Julia grabbing coffee for some of the other paralegals in the office. 

“It’s nice to meet you.” She smiled and hoped she sounded sincere. Julia nodded quietly and mumbled a “You too,” before smiling shyly and breezing out the doorway. 

Well, it was better than nothing. And wouldn’t Bridget be so happy she did a grown up thing today. She smirked and tapped on her cellphone before holding it between her shoulder and ear.

“Hey baby,” came the blonde’s melodic voice. Franky almost melted into the phone at the sound.

“Hi spunky.” She knew if anyone were watching her right now, they’d catch the cheesy grin she adorned, the twinkly look she got in her eyes. She was in love, she didn’t even care to hide that stuff anymore. She didn’t have to, there was no need to put up a defense. She was safe, protected. Bridget was her fortress.

She felt distracted the rest of the day because she couldn’t stop thinking about the blonde. She doodled Bridget’s name in purple ink on her calendar and drew a heart around it like she was a teenager again. She couldn’t begin to believe how lucky she had gotten, how she felt as if she was winning the lottery every single time Bridget looked at her, touched her, kissed her. 

“I can’t wait to kiss you when I get home.” She had said through a smile on the phone earlier.

“I can’t wait for you to kiss me when you get home.” Bridget had teased back. Franky had groaned in delight, she loved the flirty, back and forth banter that they’d had since the beginning.

It was 5 o’clock now and she ran to her car, anticipation building in her body like a coil spring. She sat through traffic, honking her horn and shouting a few “Piss offs,” at other commuters. She all but flung herself through the door that evening and into the arms of her Gidge, cupping her smooth cheeks and pressing kisses against her perfect lips. The lips that fit her own so well. Like they were made for each other.

Franky reckoned if soulmates were a real thing, Bridget was hers.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I. Am. So. Sorry! A delay of this length will never happen again. I swear it! I hope you guys are still out there reading and enjoying...

Bridget hummed softly as she walked down the steel grey hallway of Wentworth, heeled boots clacking against the concrete floors. She turned a corner sharply and managed to run right into Liz. The two women collided and Bridget’s bottom hit the floor with a thump.

“Oh, Miss Westfall!” Liz exclaimed as she reached for the smaller blonde. She helped Bridget to her feet, the psychologist smoothing her blazer and pants down with her hands.

“I am so sorry,” Liz apologized, wringing her hands nervously in front of her. “I didn’t even, I didn’t-”

“Liz, Liz, it’s okay.” Bridget smiled calmly, blowing a stray strand of hair away from her face. Her grin reassured the older woman and she hurried off as Bridget continued her pace to her office. 

Liz Birdsworth was a very skittish type of woman; she almost always had a furrow in her brow and looked like she might burst into tears at any moment. Still, she meant a great deal to Bridget, as well as Franky, and she did feel the overpowering need to protect and defend her. 

Christ, Bridget. She rolled her eyes at herself. The line she had crossed with Franky was one thing, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to separate her feelings from her job. She used to never have that issue. She scoffed playfully at herself as she crossed the threshold to her office. 

Must be the whole in love thing. Bridget sighed and ran her fingers across her forehead, rubbing at her temples. 

She was going over the file of a new inmate when Linda Miles popped her head through the open door. 

“Miss Westfall?” The blonde officer greeted her with a stony expression. Franky was right, Linda hardly ever showed emotion.

Bridget motioned for Miss Miles and the female prisoner in tow to come in. 

“Oh, and here are some more intakes.” The file hit Bridget’s desk with a thwack, the officer retreating just a quickly as she rushed in. Linda pursed her lips in a sort of smirk and shut the door behind her, leaving the psychologist alone with the very same woman Bridget had just been staring at, the woman from the file. 

She was young, younger than Franky had been when she first met her. Twenty years old and she had been incarcerated for almost the exact crime. Serious assault with intent to wound. Eyeing the young woman before her, Bridget tilted her head and mused silently.

Doesn’t look capable of committing that. She felt a familiar overwhelming sensation churning in her stomach. 

Neither did Franky. 

She cleared her throat lightly. “How are you today, Willow?”

“Fuckin’ great.” The words reverberated off the walls of Bridget’s office. Bridget nodded and continued.

“Anything you’d like to talk about?”

The brunette across from her rolled her eyes and scoffed, sinking down in the plush green chair and Bridget couldn’t deny the déjà vu of the situation.

This would be interesting. 

—————————-

Bridget was sitting in the employee break room eating a sandwich Franky had packed her the night before, her brain running a mile a minute about Willow McCallough. It wasn’t that Bridget felt confused about how to handle the inmate, it was that the blonde was having serious flashbacks from years before. The snarky expression on Willow’s angular face made Bridget want to blow raspberries in exasperation, only because she knew that look. She knew it from weeks with Franky, helping her to get through the trauma and the bullshit to get on track with her life. 

Franky was by far the most challenging, and most rewarding person she had ever had the pleasure of treating. She couldn’t deny that much; the brunette had been a client first, and then a friend, a lover. Franky Doyle had changed the blonde’s life in so many ways. Bridget only hoped that she genuinely had done the same for her, beyond the relationship aspect of it all.

She sighed heavily, setting the sandwich down on the wax paper in front of her. At that moment, Vera walked in and gave her friend a small smile. 

“Hello there,” Vera’s chipper voice was enough to break the gloom settling over Bridget’s features. 

“Hey,” Bridget smiled briefly, one that didn’t quite meet her eyes and Vera was keen to notice. The brunette frowned as she pulled her lunch from the microwave. 

“Everything okay?” She sat next to Bridget and waited patiently while the blonde contemplated her choice of words. 

“Do you think I make a difference?” It was quiet after that, Vera letting the question sink into the space around them. She clicked her tongue and look at the blonde curiously. 

“Make a difference.” She repeated, tilting her head and taking a bite of the fried rice she had brought. She chewed thoughtfully while she waited. Did she believe Bridget made a difference? Yes. But it only mattered, only counted if her friend believed that about herself.

“Yes, with the women.” The blonde’s voice was barely above a whisper, eyes cast down, fingers fiddling with the edge of the table that was peeling. Vera made a mental note to fix that, smiling in amusement at the absurdity of the whole thing.

“Bridget, you cannot be serious!” She all but exclaimed, hands pressing against the grey surface. Bridget laughed sadly, a quiet hum following. 

Realizing the blonde was in a vulnerable state, Vera covered one of Bridget’s hands with her own. 

“Hey,” Vera’s voice was calm, soft; the tone commanded Bridget’s head up and their eyes met. 

“Bridget, you do a fantastic job with them. These women, they really rely on you. They trust you.” Bridget relaxed into her chair as her friend continued. 

“You bring something out in them, something good. We are all lucky you’re here with us. The women they were before you is a distant memory for most of them...just look at Franky.”

Hearing her girlfriend’s name used so casually was still something Bridget was getting used to. There had a been a time not too long ago when Vera wouldn’t even bring herself to reference the taller brunette, let alone speak her name aloud.

“You changed her life. I’ve known her much longer than you have, I know you know that.” Vera patted the blonde’s hand and picked up her fork again, shoveling rice in her mouth.

“She’s a different person, has been since that first day in the library.” Bridget knew what day that was, it had been ingrained in her mind ever since. The first time Franky showed her how angry she was, and even then the blonde psych couldn’t deny the need to be closer, to learn more. It was why she chased the then Governor down to the slot. 

“Without you, who knows where she might have ended up.” 

“Oh, she had it in her all along, Vera.” Bridget countered. “I...merely assisted in the process. Franky didn’t want to be angry anymore.”

The brunette nodded in agreement, “You’re absolutely right. The same goes for all of them. You don’t just make a difference, you are the difference.” Bridget smiled softly, a content feeling washing over her. 

“Thanks Vera.” And she was thankful, Vera had been the best friend she could ask for for a while now. Even when Bridget betrayed her by stealing her swipe card to get the keys to Iman’s lock up garage. Vera still stood by her side through it all. Bridget couldn’t name very many people in her life that would have done that for her. She was loyal, that much was true.

“Oh, and Bridge…” Vera’s voice trailed off, the blonde watching her from across the room. Vera had finished her meal and was washing the container at the sink. She had her back to Bridget, muscles moving meticulously to dry the tupperware and put it on the shelf above the sink to grab later.

She turned and took a breath. “I want to genuinely apologise again.” 

“Oh, Vera please,” Bridget began but was cut off quickly.

“No, let me do this.” Vera leaned back against the counter. “For so long I questioned your true intent with her. I was angry, I’ll admit. I was angry because I felt that you were using your position of authority to control her. I never took a step back to see it was she who was pursuing you.” Bridget snorted causing Vera to chuckle lightly.

“I mean, pursue is an odd word to use.” The blonde nodded in agreement as Vera continued.

“But you weren’t doing anything wrong. And I know that now, I have known that. And I know that I keep saying how sorry I am, and I don’t know if I’ll never not feel absolutely wrecked with guilt, but…” She trailed off, eyes meeting the blonde’s. 

“Vera, I forgave you a long time ago. We have been over this.” She wasn’t annoyed with her, but she was a bit sad that her friend still felt this way. The brunette looked down at her shiny black heels and frowned. And that was when it dawned on Bridget, the realization that Vera had never taken the time to officially apologise to Franky. She believed that was the reason her friend still walked around with a “You just stepped on my puppy” look on her face.

 

“Why don’t you come over for dinner tonight, say seven.” It was a statement, not a request. Vera looked uncertain, but she nodded and smiled curtly before walking out of the room, leaving Bridget to finish her lunch. 

Tonight would be the night that Vera finally forgave herself, Bridget was sure of it.

 

—————————

 

“Gidge?” Franky’s voice echoed through the corridor. She slipped her boots off and removed her jacket, hanging it by the door. 

“Babe? It’s so cold outside, I think I might die the next time I go out there.” She could hear Bridget’s muted chuckle coming from the other end of the house. And she could smell… what was that? 

“Gidge, are you making dinner?” She clicked her tongue and followed the scent of garlicky lemony chicken. It was an absolute rarity that Bridget would be cooking - Franky was the one who was more inclined in the kitchen. The brunette glided down the hall in her socks, striking a pose at the end before smacking her hands on the kitchen bench counter. That’s when she saw a different brunette, eyes wide and mouth formed into a grin, before laughter filled the room.

Vera and Bridget were almost doubled over, clutching their sides at the sight. Franky rolled her eyes, surprised but not at all concerned that her girlfriend and her friend were almost out of breath at her expense. She walked towards the blonde with a smirk on her lips, kissing her softly as both older women quieted. Bridget hummed in appreciation and turned to Vera with a giddy, dazed expression. Franky still did that to her, after all this time.

“I thought I might surprise you both with a chicken dinner.” Vera giggled over her glass of ice water, tipping back the rest of it. 

“Would you like another?” Bridget quirked an eyebrow. “Or maybe a glass of wine?” 

Vera shook her head. “No, water is fine,” she quipped. Her blonde friend carefully topped off the glass in Vera’s petite hand before pouring both herself and Franky a glass of white wine. Franky slipped on an apron and began chopping red potatoes to go with the chicken. Bridget was buzzed enough that she dismissed the action with a snort and retired to the living room, Vera in tow. She had made the main course, at least. Plus, she loved the sight of Franky in that cute tan smock.

Dinner was quickly served; plates of roasted potatoes, baked chicken, and salads were placed on the table top, the three women sitting in a comfortable silence enjoying the meal before them. Franky and Bridget were quick to notice Vera still had not had a sip of alcohol, but neither mentioned it. Vera seemed oblivious to their questioning glances, a trait many found endearing in the small brunette.

However, after dinner was finished and the three of them were settled on the couches in the living room, Franky broke the facade.

“What’s up, Vera?” The question seemed innocent enough to Bridget but the two brunettes knew the meaning behind it.

“Hmm?” Vera was quick to respond, eyes widening in feigned shock.

“You haven’t had a drop of wine since you’ve been here. You still that afraid of being under the influence around me, hey?” 

“Franky!” Bridget hissed, a hand darting out to tap lightly on her girlfriend’s knee. 

“N-no, it’s not, it has absolutely nothing to do with-,” Vera’s voice was a stutter as Franky leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest, her mouth in a perfect “o” shape.

“Vera, Vera, Vera…” Franky clicked her tongue in amusement. Bridget looked between them, shaking her head obviously confused.

“Would one of you please explain what is going on here?” The blonde’s voice was exasperated. Franky chuckled and looked towards Vera expectedly.

“Well, are you going to tell us?” 

Vera huffed before a broad smile broke out across her face. She pressed her hands against her flushed cheeks and turned to Bridget.

“I’ve decided to keep the baby.” 

The air was still, quiet. Franky’s smile matched Vera’s and Bridget was speechless. After a beat, she let out a high pitched squeal that made the other women roar with excited laughter.

“A baby!” Bridget exclaimed. “Oh, Vera, I am so happy for you.” It had been hard for her to make this decision, that was true. The baby was Jake Stewart’s, a colleague of theirs that turned out to not be a very good man at all. 

Vera nodded sheepishly, a hand pressing lightly against her stomach. 

“Franky, I…”

The mood shifted as Vera began speaking again.

“I realize that at this point in our relationship, I would consider you a friend and I want you to feel that way about me as well.” She never broke their eye contact, Bridget watching the scene play before her.

“But I realize how hard it is to have a friend who not only wrongly accused you multiple times, but belittled you often and sometimes harshly. And… one who has never apologised for those actions.” 

Franky’s expression was unreadable, her face blank, muscles tense. 

“And I am sorry. I’m sorry for doing all of that to you, and I’m sorry for taking so long to apologise. I hope one day you can forgive me.”

The taller brunette softened at those words. Not a lot of people in her life had ever said they were sorry, for anything really. Her mother never once, it took her dad nearly twenty years! But Vera was sincere, she knew that much. And she liked having her around. Vera was right, Franky did consider her a friend.

“Apology accepted, little mama.” She scrunched her nose in amusement as Bridget let out another squeal of delight. 

Vera knew the comment was light hearted, that was Franky’s nature. Her blue eyes searched the green ones still holding her gaze and she saw the genuine happiness filling them. Franky nodded, as if she could read Vera’s anxious mind and she immediately felt more relaxed. 

As Franky made her way from the couch to make sure the kitchen was completely cleaned and shut down, as she so often put it, Vera was tackled in hugs by a very excited blonde.

The two friends giggled and talked animatedly for several moments before Franky walked back in and plopped herself onto the couch again by Bridget.

“Franky is a fabulous name choice, by the way.”

Their laughter echoed off the walls and they were happy.


End file.
